by Lynn Lorenz
How could I be so completely wrong about someone?
She sat in bed all night thinking of what she should do, and when morning came and the fire burned low, she still sat there, deep in thought.
Chapter 18
Damon stared across at his second. He had to admit, the man looked bad. Stefan's eyes were blood-shot, and he had cut himself, not once, but twice while shaving. And, if Damon was not mistaken, the scent he caught from the man he considered his son was strong drink.
He'd only seen Stefan drunk one other time, fifteen or so years ago, when rumors of Stefan's involvement with the dark faith circulated and he was brought under inquiry by headquarters.
Damon knew this time it was not about the dark faith, but about something far more powerful--love.
He pitched his voice louder. "Well, Stefan, we have another chance at Blackmoor." For emphasis, he slapped his hands together.
Stefan winced at the sound of Damon's voice. Rubbing his head as though it was killing him, Stefan looked as if he were on the verge of vomiting. "Blackmoor, eh? Sounds good. Where is the information coming from? Can we trust it?" Stefan spoke so low Damon barely heard him. Damon nodded. "Mercy interrogated the man Sarah wounded. He had the day and time for a meeting in his head." He amplified his voice again.
"Sounds like a solid lead. Where is the meeting and who'll be there?"
"That safe house you've been watching of all places! Blackmoor will definitely be there and several of his key men. In just two weeks, Stefan. We must prepare. Inspector Oliver has offered to join us with some men from his station."
"Good. We're so short-handed right now we'll need every man we can get."
"He'll send two inspectors to lead his team. Who do you want with you?"
"Rolf, of course. Reilly is not ready." Stefan made a disparaging noise. "I'll pick the patrollers after I speak with Rolf."
"Right." Damon sighed. Malcolm Reilly was his stone to carry. There might be hope for him, he thought. His father is a good man, although a bit full of himself.
For now, he was worried about Stefan. And Sarah.
"You look like you had a rough night of it, Stefan."
"No, not at all. What makes you think that?"
"Oh, you just look a shade pale, that's all." And green, he thought.
"Well, I'm fine." Stefan waved the concern away.
Damon sat back. "Son, join me for breakfast. I feel like a large plate of soft cooked eggs and some thick ham. The kind with the little bits of crispy fat clinging to the edges."
As Damon spoke, Stefan's face grew greener. "If you'll excuse me today, sir, I have some reports I need to work on."
"No, no, I insist, Stefan. It's not like you to miss breakfast." He rose and stepped from behind the desk. "Let's go." It was an order.
Stefan stifled a groan as he followed Damon down the hallway.
This is going to be good, Damon gloated. He had to keep himself from rubbing his hands together in gleeful anticipation of the lessons he'd teach at the breakfast table.
Drink was not forbidden. In fact, each officer was allowed a ration of ale each day, and wine on special occasions. The inspectors were allotted wine each evening, in deference to their rank. Whiskey wasn't provided, although there were no rules about having it or drinking it. However, you could be reported for being drunk on duty. In reality, inspectors were on duty at all times, except on leave. If Stefan had been as drunk as Damon suspected, he'd crossed the line.
When they entered the mess and took seats, Stefan signaled the addler for hot tea.
"What, no food? Are you sure you're not feeling well?"
"I'm fine, sir. Just not hungry this morning, that's all." Stefan gave him a weak smile, but the pallor of his skin wasn't helping to convince Damon.
"Bring me three eggs, soft-cooked. And I want a thick slab of ham. Inspector Bane will have the same." Damon gave the order to the addler, who nodded and 'ported out.
Stefan sat hunched over, hands wrapped around his mug of hot tea.
"If I didn't know you better, Stefan, I'd say you were hung over. But that couldn't be. Of all the men serving here at the station, you'd be the last man I'd ever expect to over-indulge in strong drink." Damon took a sip of his tea and smiled.
"Is that so?" Stefan sipped his tea with great care.
Damon thought Stefan looked exceptionally guilty. He'd seen that look once or twice through the years. For a moment, he thought Stefan had had enough, but, unfortunately, for Stefan, the moment passed.
"Oh, aye. I'd swear on my honor that you're the soberest man I know."
"Would you?"
"Indeed."
Stefan looked as if he were going to say something. Damon waited. Stefan's mouth opened and closed. There was no confession. It was obvious Stefan was going to try to bluff it out.
The addler returned with the plates and placed them in front of the two men. The eggs sat on the plates like great yellow eyes and the ham swam in its own grease. Damon broke his first egg and the liquid yolk ran all over his plate.
"Just the way I like it, son. Soft white with a runny yellow yolk."
Stefan looked at the egg and groaned. He rose to his feet, mumbled what Damon thought was, "Excuse me," and took off toward the mess hall toilets.
Damon took a bite of the egg, swallowed and smiled. His work here was done, but there was still breakfast to be finished. He found his appetite quite improved and he pulled Stefan's plate over, speared the slice of ham, and placed it on his plate. What Mercy didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
Gustav appeared. "Sir, I have information. Are you supposed to have two slices of ham?" He raised an eyebrow.
"No. And I trust it stays between you and me." Thatcher gave his head addler a stern look.
The little old man sighed. "Firestone refuses to speak about where and who Inspector Bane was with last night. Moss, Inspector Creel's addler, says it is his understanding that the two men spent part of the evening in Creel's room and never left the castle. They were talking." Gustav raised an eyebrow.
"Is that all?"
The addler leaned in; his eyes shifted from side to side. "Moss says when he cleaned Creel's room this morn, there were two glasses used, and the decanter of the inspector's best whiskey was empty. He says there was smoking, too, sir."
Smoking certainly was no crime.
Damon sat back and laughed. "Well, boys will be boys, Gustav. That will be all."
"Aye, sir." Gustav paused. "Did you still wish to see Patroller Tallow this morning?"
"Yes, make sure she sees me before she begins her duties."
"Aye, sir." He 'ported out.
He finished his breakfast, including both slices of ham. Addlers cleared the plates and Stefan never did reappear.
Damon went back to his office to wait for Sarah.
* * * *
Blackmoor looked at the man before him and leaned back. He'd come in useful before, and he would very soon be useful again.
"I can't believe those oafs ruined everything! I had to follow Creel around for two days to get my hands on his mirror. Luckily, he left his jacket on the back of a chair in the mess and I took it without being seen. One quick rap did the trick."
"Yes, let us hope this time there will be no fools involved. The last fool I suffered is, shall we say, no longer suffering." Blackmoor smiled, his lips gliding over white teeth.
"They're planning a raid on the house in Avea the night your meeting with Franks is set. They got the information from the man they took," the man said.
"Never mind. It'll work for me anyway. Let them believe it, but reschedule with Franks. We'll lay a trap for the inspector." Blackmoor sat back and smiled. "This time, Bane won't get away. I want him dead. I'd hoped to do it myself, but if he's killed in the skirmish, so be it." He'd been foolish to indulge his fantasy of killing Bane himself. The man was like a cat with nine lives, always managing to get out alive.
"I'll make sure Frank has the correct date and the raid pro
ceeds as planned."
"Will you be there?" Blackmoor doubted it; this man was a coward.
"No, I don't think I'll be picked to go." He shook his head. "But I'd love to be there to see Bane take his last breath."
"As would I. Despite everything, I do admire him as an opponent. Early on, I tried to bribe Bane. Nothing tempted him--not women, power, or money. At one point, I wondered if Bane had certain other proclivities that could be used against him, but I could find nothing." He shrugged. "So, in a way, Bane has brought this on his own head."
"I don't care, as long as he's dead and out of the way. Now, what about the Sorcerer? He's making it very difficult for us because his people are out of control. The stations are all on high alert, and that makes it harder for decent thieves, conners, and gamblers to make a living. And if they don't make money, you don't make money."
"Don't presume to tell me my business." Blackmoor leaned forward.
The man shrank away. "Of course not, my lord." He gave a careful bow.
"The Sorcerer." Blackmoor's lip twisted up in a sneer. "A man with delusions of Godhood. Only the weak-minded follow him. He offers a taste of power to those fools, yet keeps all the real power for himself. I've dealt with him before, long ago. If he thinks he can come into my territory with his perverted majik ways stirring up my business, he'd better think again."
"Right. Well, I've got to get back to the castle, or I'll be missed." The man waited.
Blackmoor seriously doubted anyone would miss the man. He reached into a drawer of his desk, pulled out a fat purse, and tossed it on the table with a heavy thud. His man's eyes glittered as he scooped up the pouch and tucked it into his pocket.
Blackmoor watched him leave and twirled his wand absently through his fingers. The man was a rat, but a useful rat. However, his time of usefulness was nearing its end.
* * * *
Sarah stood at attention before the Chief Inspector.
"Patroller Tallow, how is the training going?" Damon leaned back in his chair and regarded her over his glasses. She looked sad. The lines around her mouth were drawn.
"Well, sir, the officers are showing great promise and adapting to the new techniques." She became more animated as she spoke about her classes.
"I was wondering if we could get a demonstration."
"Of course, sir. I was hoping to get them ready for you soon. You're welcome to come to the class at anytime."
"Well, I had something a little more involved in mind, Sarah. Perhaps, I might be able to arrange a little challenge. Sometimes, as sport for the officers, two stations compete against each other. For bragging rights and station pride, you understand." He paused, watching her. "Your officers, let's say, against Chief Inspector Harrow's men from Litton?" He leaned forward and placed his hands on the desk.
Sarah thought about it. "That would be fine, sir. I'm sure our officers will look forward to showing off their new skills."
"Good, good." He stroked his beard and smiled like a cat who had swallowed a bird.
Sarah sat back, crossed her arms, and tilted her head at him. "Sir, by any chance, are you a man who gambles?"
His wide grin gave him away. "You're beginning to know me too well, Sarah."
"How much, sir?" She raised her eyebrow.
"Fifty gold." He tried not to smirk.
"You should be ashamed, sir."
Now, he tried to look sheepish.
She leaned forward and looked him in the eye. "Betting on your own men. Without letting me in on the action." She shook her head. "Add fifty for me, sir. It'll be like stealing from the blind."
Sarah left and let Thatcher make the arrangements.
* * * *
Tandy appeared in Luci's room holding a large basket, covered with a cloth napkin, and placed it on the table. "It's all here, Miss Lucinda. I made sure the kitchen addlers put in two full roast chickens." She sounded very proud of herself.
"Did you now? And what handsome young addler did you convince to give you all that?" Addlers may be small and not human, but Luci knew they possessed all the same emotions and desires people do.
Tandy blushed and the pale green of her cheeks deepened. "That air elemental, miss."
"He works the kitchen?" Luci pried for more information from the little woman.
"He runs the kitchen." Tandy straightened her back, obviously proud of her conquest. "He promised me a flight over the woods, if I was so inclined."
"And are you?" Luci looked up briefly while she went through the basket's contents.
"I am. After all, we'll be stationed here for a long time, and there'll be many hours of idle time." Tandy winked at her.
Luci was fully aware that, although addlers were bound to serve, they were free to pursue their own lives. And they didn't live by the same rules of society humans did. Coupling happened between addlers who were willing partners, not just with those who had chosen mates.
A knock at the door signaled the arrival of Rolf. Luci pulled on her cloak, checked herself in the mirror a final time, gathered up the basket, and opened the door.
"Luci, you look beautiful today." Rolf held out his arm to her. He was dressed in loose trousers, a shirt and tweed jacket. Luci wore a soft grey tweed jacket and skirt, with a low cut dark grey blouse, and had tied her hair back with a matching bow.
They made their way to the front hall and out the door. A small carriage waited, its sturdy grey pony pawing the ground, anxious to leave. Rolf handed her up, climbed in, and snapped the reins.
"Where are we going?"
"There is a spot I know, a favorite of mine." Rolf leaned back in the seat, hesitated, and then placed his arm across the back of the seat. Luci snuggled in next to him, her hand on his leg.
* * * *
"The woods are lovely this time of year, don't you think?" Rolf stammered, barely able to form a sentence. The heat of her touch warmed his leg and his loins.
"Yes, lovely." She watched the passing scenery and seemed unaware of the affect she had on him.
They rode a long way in silence.
Catching a movement, Luci froze. "Look," she whispered as she pointed into the woods. "Deer." Her eyes grew wide.
He spotted the two deer almost hidden at the side of the road. He pulled the reins, stopping the pony. Rolf felt the almost irresistible urge to leap from the carriage and take after them. He turned to Luci. She was staring; her emerald eyes wide, her breath almost a pant as she leaned forward, as if to leap from the carriage.
Rolf let one urge replace another. He dropped the reins and pulled her to him. Holding her face in his hands, he lowered his head to kiss her. She lifted her pink lips to his. He watched as her long red lashes closed over her green eyes.
Softness met him. Her lips were like no other woman's. He wanted to drink her in, taste her, and memorize it to play over and over in his dreams and waking memory.
He pulled her bottom lip in, nibbling on it. She moaned in response. He felt his manhood react, helpless to control it.
He kissed her again. This time, his tongue slid around the opening of her mouth and then darted inside to taste her. Sweetness like he'd never experienced. He had to taste her again or die.
A low purr bubbled up from her throat, and he thought he'd go mad.
Growling, he pulled the ribbon from her hair, loosening it to fall around her in sheets. As he buried his hands in the red tresses, his tongue delved deep into her mouth. She welcomed it, pulling on his jacket, dragging him closer to her.
They were like animals, each lost in the other's scent and taste, clinging to each other as if their lives depended on it.
Rolf nipped her throat as he moved his lips toward that place where neck meets shoulder. When he licked the hollow of her throat, she whimpered her response. The sound of it drove him on.
He wanted to mark her and show the entire world this woman was his and his alone. The thought of her with another man was unbearable.
Luci clutched his shirt and pulled him to her,
pressing her breasts against his chest. Then she buried her hands in his thick hair to pull his face down to the upper curve of her breast.
"Rolf," she gasped out.
"Luci." He groaned as his tongue tasted the upper mound of her breast.
Her body tensed and pushed him away. "Rolf, wait, stop."
"What's wrong?" His voice was husky with desire.
Luci frowned. "I must not behave so."
"I thought you were enjoying it."
"I was, too much." Regret showed in her eyes, and it hurt him.
He sat back and tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. "Have I offended you? Taken too much liberty, perhaps?" He feared he'd overstepped his bounds. After all, she was the daughter of a lord and probably not used to being pawed by a man in such a manner.
"Not at all. It's good to know that our feelings, our desires, if I may be so bold, are mutual." She smiled at him, and he relaxed. "However, if I'm to be yours, and I mean to be, then I must behave better, more properly. In order to be a proper inspector's wife."
"Better! Luci, there's no one finer than you." He pulled the pony to the side of the road. "You're more than I ever hoped for, and surely more than I deserve." He shook his head.
"Rolf, you deserve what you take for yourself, not what is given you. If that were so, no one would ever advance." She put her hand on his leg and squeezed it. "Now, where is this place?"
"Just ahead." He snapped the reins and the pony moved off at a trot.
A few minutes later, a small path appeared to branch off from the main road, and Rolf guided the pony to it. They went at a walk down the path, until it opened into a wide glade, filled with tall grasses just turning golden. On the side was a small stream, and she could just hear the water's music over the smooth stones that lined the bed.
"Oh, Rolf, it's wonderful!" Unable to wait for him, she jumped down from the carriage and took the blanket. He carried the basket as he followed her. Selecting a spot at the edge of the glade near the stream, she spread the blanket, and he placed the basket on it. Then he went back to the carriage, removed the harness from the pony, and let him wander to crop the tall, sweet grass.